CLEVELAND — Every morning, Dwight Bullard pulls into the station selling the cheapest gas he can find and puts exactly $100 worth into the rented box truck he uses to haul tires around Northeast Ohio.
On the August morning MS NOW was riding with him, regular was $3.92 a gallon.
“There goes my $100,” he said, watching the pump click off. It didn’t even fill the tank. Six months earlier, the same day’s driving had cost him $60 or $70.
He did the math in the truck: Add in the $600 for the rental truck, and the weekly cost of doing what he describes as the best job he’s had is $1,100. Do that every week for a year, and it’s way more than what he is trying to save to buy a truck of his own.
Ask him who he blames for the high price of gas, and he doesn’t hesitate.
“Trump! I blame Trump, man,” he said. Then, a beat later: “Well, that’s what I hear. I ain’t really into politics, but I know it’s got something to do with the shit he’s doing over there.”
Dwight Bullard (right) delivering tires in Northeast Ohio in August 2026.
MS NOW walked him through the data: the war with Iran, the Strait of Hormuz, a fifth of the world’s oil, a global market that sets the price at a gas pump in Cleveland, his hometown.
Dwight is 34, with two daughters under 10. He drives the tire route until about 4 p.m., goes home to shower and on some days works a second job running food at a Mexican restaurant until 11 or midnight. And then he’s up at 5:30 in the morning to do it again.
One thing he has not done is connect his situation to the folks in elected office in his state or Washington, D.C. He’s also pretty sure he has only voted once in his life: in 2012, for Barack Obama. He did not vote in 2024.
“Most of the people I know, we ain’t really voting,” he said. “My homeboys, we just making shit happen. Living day to day.”
Does he regret sitting out the last presidential election? “Considering where we are now, hell yeah.”
MS NOW went to Cleveland to get some time with a group of voters whom both parties talk about constantly, but who almost nobody is spending a lot of time or money talking to: young Black men who have stopped voting, or never started.
One of the races that could decide control of the Senate is happening in Ohio, where Democratic former Sen. Sherrod Brown is trying to win back his old seat from Republican Jon Husted. The polling has shown the race consistently within a few points, and the math on who could decide it is not that complicated.
A voter-file analysis by HIT Strategies, a public opinion research firm, found more than 100,000 registered Black voters in Ohio who sat out the last three federal elections. The firm also found, through focus groups, that these voters were more open to being mobilized this year, pushed by the cost of living and souring views of President Donald Trump.
In June, the Ohio Legislative Black Caucus Foundation released a study with a finding that should stop Democrats cold: In the 2022 midterms, 603,000 eligible Black voters in Ohio didn’t cast a ballot. That is more than twice the margin by which JD Vance won his Senate seat that year.
Shayla L. Davis, who runs the foundation, said she was “heartbroken” when she got the findings back.
Shayla L. Davis, President and CEO of the Ohio Legislative Black Caucus Foundation.MS NOW
Sitting in the UnBar Cafe, a Black-owned coffee shop, she noted that in 2023, the Republican-controlled state passed one of the most restrictive voter ID laws in the country. Essentially, it’s a “use it or lose it” rule that strips people from the voter rolls for not voting. That, combined with the apathy she is seeing especially with young Black men, helps explain to Davis why what was once a swing state has so far failed to regain that status.
“My own son, he’s 28 years old. He stopped voting,” said Davis, formerly a state representative and city councilwoman in the Cleveland suburb of Garfield Heights. “He’s cynical. He doesn’t believe that anyone is standing up for what he believes. He believes that all the rhetoric is performative and that everyone is all the same. And that breaks my heart, but I can understand exactly where he’s coming from.”
Her son grew up in a house where his mother’s name was constantly on the ballot. She remembers the election night party she threw in 2008 and him running out of his bedroom, a kid full of joy that Obama had won. That’s the moment she keeps trying to get him to remember.
There’s been a lot of ink spilled about the gender divide in the Black community. Black women are more consistent voters, and more consistently punching their cards for Democrats. Those numbers aren’t actually that stark though: 92% of Black women voted for Harris in 2024 compared with 78% of Black men.
It’s the generational divide that is more worrying for people like Davis. Younger Black voters are just hitting the ballot box less compared with the generations before them.
Her concern is that there is just a lack of connective tissue to the days when Black people didn’t have the right to vote. Pair that with the lack of movement on issues young Black voters care about, and it’s a recipe for apathy.
“Older Black voters are going to show up and vote,” Davis said. “It’s a generational gap of what they actually experienced. My son never experienced any of [the Civil Rights Movement]. He only hears the stories and he’s hearing the stories third-party. He’s hearing it from me, who didn’t experience that either.”
There are groups trying to change that, like Cleveland VOTES, a nonpartisan civic organization that three years ago started a seasonal, part-time canvassing team it calls The Squad. There are just five of them, but last year they logged more than 114,000 contacts.
MS NOW walked with them on a Wednesday afternoon on the East Side, in a stretch of the city where co-founder Erika Anthony says turnout is lowest. They weren’t asking people who they were voting for. They were handing out flyers for “Carnivote,” an event with free food, backpacks for kids and a round of “Democracy Jeopardy.”
Erika Anthony, co-founder of Cleveland VOTES.MS NOW
Jerry Pena, who manages the group and is its only man, explained the strategy.
“You go to people’s doors, you quickly approach them with voting, the conversation shuts down,” he said. “It’s over because they’ve seen what their vote does, right? It’s disappointed them over and over again.
“The conversation needs to change more to ‘What do you want to see in the future in this neighborhood? How can we get there?’ But if you start with voting, done deal.”
Jerry Pena, a member of Cleveland VOTES, in August 2026.MS NOW
At 2 p.m. on a weekday, when door-knockers might expect to find retirees — older Black voters who may not need a ton of convincing — they kept running into young Black men.
Outside a convenience store, a 29-year-old who gave only his first name, Robert, said he hasn’t voted for anyone in years. “I just didn’t feel like nobody deserved it,” he said.
He added that nobody, not a Democrat or a Republican, knocked on his door in 2024. Then, unprompted, he started talking about policy. He’d recently been in jail, where “they treat you like animals,” and he couldn’t understand why people were still locked up on weed charges in a state where recreational possession was legal.
He had strong, specific views about the carceral system. He knew exactly what would make it better. Robert had just never connected those ideas to the people who decide what the laws actually look like.
When MS NOW described Robert to Anthony afterward, she said that is exactly why Cleveland VOTES started: She and her co-founder were working with people coming home from prison and kept hearing the same disconnect.
“We would say things like ‘Do you want to have the ability to influence who sits on the [judicial] bench?’” she said. “When we started painting the picture for folks, they’re like, ‘Oh, I have the ability to do that.’”
The biggest takeaway isn’t that these voters are tapped out — it’s that almost no one has even tried to tap them in. Every single Black man MS NOW met that day said some version of “No one has tried to convince me to vote.” Nobody is paying these men any attention.
“We as a country have gotten way too hyperfocused on the electoral cycle versus thinking about the holistic nature of community building,” Anthony said. “There are policy decisions being made every day, locally, countywide, statewide and at the federal level. And if we’re only talking to folks two weeks, three weeks before an election and just expecting them to magically open their eyes and see why this is valuable to them. [By] then, we’ve already missed the boat.”
Which raises the question of who exactly is asking. Davis said that since her foundation’s report came out on Juneteenth, one federal official’s office has reached out. Neither Senate campaign had called.
“They don’t have to call me,” Davis said. ”Just pick the report up and do something about it.”
Brown’s campaign says it is doing that. According to a campaign aide, Brown started his outreach earlier than any of his other campaigns ever had. He has met with Black faith leaders in Ohio cities since last fall, held roundtables with Black men, hosted “pledge to vote” events with Divine Nine organizations and spent $250,000 on ads airing on radio stations with predominantly Black audiences.
Husted’s campaign initially agreed to meet with MS NOW for this story, then canceled due to a scheduling conflict and did not immediately respond to emailed questions about what efforts his team has made to reach out to Black voters.
MS NOW sat down with Dwight, the tire and restaurant hustler, and his mother, Kari Jones, who is the kind of voter campaigns dream about. She passed out flyers for a city council candidate at 10 years old. Her neighbors call her for political advice. Her mother and daughter call her from the voting booth to ask who they should pick.
She has made sure that Dwight has stayed registered for years. She has not been able to persuade him to do anything with that registration since 2012.
Kari Jones and Dwight Bullard in August 2026.MS NOW
What changed for Dwight between 2012, when he said casting a ballot for Obama “felt like I did something,” and now?
“I guess I never really saw a change,” he said. “I never really seen what it did firsthand to people, so I just never really cared to vote. Like, it is what it is. They’re going to do what they’re going to do.”
Thinking on it, he realized he and his friends do actually talk about politics. All the time. “We sit [in the barbershop] and talk about the rent, the streets, that big-ass pothole on Dunham. We talk about that but we don’t talk about the source of the problem.”
Something had clearly shifted. After that morning truck run, Dwight went back to the shop and a co-worker asked what the MS NOW cameras were there for. He explained, then asked whether his friend voted. Not really, the co-worker said, but he did vote in local elections.
“I’m like, ‘Damn, he’s my age,’” Dwight said, adding: “When it comes to anything else, talking Marvel movies, music, we can relate. So when I heard him say that, I’m like — makes sense.”
Jones had been waiting for this. For her son to make these connections.
There’s a tree in her yard that Dwight spent a year telling her to get the city to cut down, afraid it would fall on her house, or her car or one of his kids. The city finally came to do it that morning.
“Who did you think was going to do it?” she asked.
“The city.”
“And who’s the city?”
The light bulb went off. Dwight was realizing that who is in office can actually make differences big or small to his and his family’s life. Not voting, he said, was “like a video game where you [are] not using the power-ups.”
She asked him if this had really changed his mind and if he would vote in November. “Yes, with you. And I’ll get the sticker,” he said.
I asked Jones what she would say to a politician who sat across from her and claimed they couldn’t figure out why young Black men in her state didn’t vote.
“Find out what’s important to them. Find out what’s affecting them. Find out what their knowledge is about politics. Because that’s the problem. They really just don’t know,” she said.
It’s just one potential voter, but it took less than a day. Nobody in politics had to do anything expensive to move Dwight Bullard.
It took a guy at work who likes the same movies, a tree in his mother’s yard and a reporter explaining how a strait on the other side of the world affected the price of gas in Ohio.
In a state where 603,000 Black voters stayed home last midterm, hardly anyone has been knocking on the door.
CORRECTION (Oct. 17, 2026, 10:30 a.m. ET): A previous version of this article listed the wrong city in which Shayla Davis served as a councilwoman. It was Garfield Heights, not Cleveland.
In the final weeks before the midterms, there’s a poll for just about everyone. One may show a candidate pulling ahead in a state that’s supposed to be hostile territory for their party. Another gives one of the parties a historic lead on the generic ballot. Whatever you’re hoping for on Election Day, you can probably find a poll that says it’s coming.
That doesn’t make it a good poll. Some of the most rigorous surveys out there may tell you exactly what you don’t want to hear, and even the best are not crystal balls. They are loaded with nuance, measure opinion at a single moment and carry uncertainty that’s easy to overlook in a fast-moving news cycle.
But polling is still a critical tool for understanding which races are competitive and which issues voters care about. The trick is reading them well. Here are three things worth considering to help you separate out meaningful patterns in the data from noise.
Polls are snapshots, not predictions
A poll can show which candidate leads a race when the interviews were conducted, but it cannot say for sure how people will vote days or weeks later. Campaigns are dynamic. Candidates’ positions evolve. Voters change their minds. In races where polls show many undecided voters, these shifts add another layer of uncertainty, because many of those voters will eventually pick someone. So pay attention to the share of respondents who are unsure or only leaning toward a candidate.
And like any snapshot, even the best poll is imperfect. High-quality pollsters work hard to make sure the people they interview accurately represent the voters in a state or district, but even excellent polls contain some noise. Smaller surveys typically have greater margins of error than larger ones. Results for specific demographic groups can be even less certain, since a survey may include only a small number of people from those groups.
Polls can offer a valuable snapshot of an election story as it unfolds. What they cannot do is predict with certainty how that story ends.
Not all polls are created equal
When most people come across a poll in a news story, the first thing they look at is the topline number: What is the poll telling me? But a better place to start is often with the source.
Who conducted the poll? How did they do it? What questions were respondents asked? Did the pollster release a methodology accounting for their decisions, or did they keep those details out of view?
These questions are important because how a pollster conducts a poll inevitably shapes what conclusions it — and, in turn, you — can draw from it. Most pollsters are well intentioned and have every incentive to get the numbers right, and reputable ones are transparent about their methods. They also generally don’t have a stake in the outcome or an incentive to try to shape the narrative around a race — unlike, say, a campaign releasing its own internal polling.
The lesson is simple. When a new poll comes out, look beyond the topline and spend a little time investigating how it was conducted. And never judge a poll’s quality by what it finds.
Polling contains unavoidable uncertainty
A common misconception with polling is that all differences are real and meaningful. For instance, in a poll of a congressional race that is 50% to 46%, it may be tempting to look at the candidate polling at 50% as the frontrunner and the one likely to win if nothing about the race changes.
But that is the wrong way to read most polls that show narrow gaps between candidates. Every poll contains some amount of uncertainty. That does not mean polling is broken, or that getting an accurate gauge on public opinion is impossible; it means that any single poll should be taken with caution and considered alongside other polls on the same race or issue.
One of the most common forms of uncertainty you will come across is a poll’s margin of error, which stems from the fact that a poll surveys only a sample of voters. In a 50-46 race with a margin of error of plus or minus 3 percentage points, we can’t say for sure who would be ahead if every voter were surveyed, because the final result could be anything from a 53-43 race one way to a 47-49 race the other way.
And sampling error is just one of many challenges. Error can creep into a poll in many other ways, including how pollsters determine who is likely to vote and how they weight different groups to match the population they’re trying to measure.
That’s why context matters — a lot. Polling averages can be an excellent way of setting expectations when a new poll comes out and to avoid getting swept up in the hype around an outlier. Polls from reputable news organizations with strong track records can serve the same purpose.
And when two candidates are polling neck and neck, the best conclusion is often the most obvious one: If the election were held today, it could go either way.
For the third installment of MS NOW’s “The Voter Files,” we went to West Des Moines to hear from two groups of reluctant Trump voters — one group from the city’s suburbs and another from small towns and rural areas. Most have split their tickets in past elections.
Of the three states we’ve visited so far, Iowa offers Democrats the clearest and most hopeful picture. In Maine, Republican Sen. Susan Collins’ standing as a long-tenured institution may help her withstand Democratic momentum. In Michigan, Democrat Abdul El-Sayed’s struggles with some of his party’s traditional constituencies have kept the race tight.
But in Iowa, Democrats have taken the national distrust of Trump’s self-dealing and pointed it at Republican Senate candidate Ashley Hinson, raising questions about how her wealth has grown since she entered Congress. The resulting cynicism may give Democrat Josh Turek enough of an edge to win: enough crossover votes and enough depressed Republican turnout.
Low marks for Trump
Elise Jordan moderates a focus group of Iowan Trump voters on October 9, 2026.MS NOW
National polls show President Donald Trump at the lowest approval of his second term, and the Iowans we met were no more generous. All of them said they were unenthusiastic about voting for him in 2024. Asked to rate his second term on a scale of one to 10, none went higher than a six, most gave him a four or a five, and the lowest assessment was a two.
“Five is almost too generous,” said Diane, an independent. “He has a lot of room for improvement.”
One participant called him “unhinged.” Another described his second term as “a personal session, like his playground.”
For these voters, the clearest evidence of broken promises is the cost of living. Consumer prices are up 3.7% over the past year.
“Our prices were going to come down. Cost of living was going to get easier,” said Janella, a Republican. “Still haven’t seen it.”
Then there’s Trump’s decision to go to war with Iran. In national polling, only roughly 34% of Americans say Trump’s decision to go to war was the right one. He promised no new wars, and when he took office in January 2025, the United States wasn’t at war. Now, voters see not only continuing conflicts in Ukraine and Gaza, but a new war with Iran that Trump launched.
“It seems like we’re in more wars than ever before,” said Tim, an independent.
Jack, another independent, tied the broken promise to avoid war to rising costs.
Elise Jordan moderates a focus group of Iowan Trump voters on October 9, 2026.MS NOW
These voters went into Trump’s second term with their eyes open. Some dreaded a return to the drama of his first term and voted for him anyway.
“Do I really want to deal with all the drama that comes with him?” said Kristi, an independent, recalling her decision in 2024. “But then, what was my other choice?”
“He’s gotten worse,” Janella said, describing a president who has dropped any pretense of working with his own party, let alone with Democrats.
Yet for all their misgivings, when asked whether they would change their 2024 votes, all but one agreed they would vote for him again over Kamala Harris.
“There were no other options,” said Dirk, a right-leaning independent, raising his hand.
It’s this sentiment — that they would choose Trump again — that helps explain why Trump’s sagging approval hasn’t translated into decisive Democratic leads in some battleground states.
Two years later, what drives these voters as they weigh their Senate and House options is less Trump himself than a broader distrust of politics.
Kate, an independent, offered the most charitable view of Trump’s presidency.
“At least he is trying,” she said. “At least he is pushing a button somewhere.”
In theory, that’s a low bar for the opposition to clear. But these voters don’t see a compelling alternative from Democrats, or any vision that convinces them the party would do better.
No home with Democrats?
Elise Jordan moderates a focus group of Iowan voters on October 9, 2026.MS NOW
“Right now, we’re stuck with a Republican Party that will do nothing to offend Trump, and a Democratic Party that will do nothing except try to go after Trump, any way, shape, or form,” Dirk said. “So in the end, we all get screwed.”
The Iowans echoed what we heard from similar voters in Maine and Michigan: Democrats seem unmoored, fixated on Trump and short on concrete policy. Most alienating of all is their sense that Democrats look down on them for voting for Trump.
“I feel like they all think that we’re like racist,” Chandler said. “It’s like they always think that we’re all against everything. It’s just their agenda that they try to push on us.”
Some said those assumptions about their motives ignore the real circumstances and needs that shaped their votes.
“Personally, my vote was motivated by potential changes that Trump could make to the economy,” Anne said.
Democrats, Janella argued, were not paying attention to their lived reality.
“They need to stop all the fighting and bickering amongst themselves, and really genuinely take a good look at what the American people are dealing with,” Janella said. “This is our livelihood we’re talking about, and every single politician has forgotten about that.”
Will they skip the Senate race?
Elise Jordan moderates a focus group of Iowan voters on October 9, 2026.MS NOW
Disenchanted with Republicans and unconvinced by Democrats, some of the Iowans we met are weighing not who to support in the Senate race, but whether to vote in it at all.
The two groups split sharply. Of the 10 rural and small-town voters, six are leaning toward Hinson and four are considering Turek. None of the 10 suburban voters is considering Hinson; seven said they would leave the Senate race blank, and the other three are considering Turek.
Focus groups aren’t polls, and 20 voters can’t predict a statewide race. But if the 2024 electorate turns out again and that pattern holds in suburbs and small towns across Iowa, Turek could be well positioned to win. He wouldn’t need to convert Trump voters wholesale, just persuade some to cross over and many others to skip the race.
For Hinson, the danger isn’t that these voters have embraced Democrats. It’s that they’ve given up.
“You just lose all faith in everybody eventually because nothing gets done, and you lose trust and become cynical,” Jack said.
This is an adapted excerpt from the Oct. 14 episode of “The 11th Hour with Ali Velshi.”
There is a famous saying attributed to Plato about the price society pays for treating politics with indifference: “One of the penalties of refusing to participate in politics is that you end up being governed by your inferiors.”
Here we are — way past the “being governed by our inferiors” stage of things. We are being governed by a would-be autocrat, his ruthless Cabinet of sycophants and a cabal of oligarchs. Donald Trump has sent masked ICE forces into American neighborhoods, where they snatch our neighbors off the streets and fire at protesters and into vehicles. He’s targeting his most vocal critics for investigation, indictment, arrest and harassment.
But Trump and his accomplices aren’t stronger than you are, and participating now means more than simply voting — it means resisting.
On Tuesday, a judge indefinitely blocked the president’s press ban. For the last month, Trump has tried to block three news networks — MS NOW, CNN and Politico — from the White House simply because he does not like the stories they publish. Expectedly, a White House spokesperson has already said they will appeal the judge’s ruling.
Trump is following an established roadmap: an allegedly anti-establishment outsider takes advantage of a right-wing populist movement and is elected president in 2016. Yes, that’s how Trump came to power, but it’s also how Rodrigo Duterte was elected in the Philippines.
Duterte was a brutal leader who presided over what he called a “war on drugs.” But in reality, it was a justification for government-linked vigilantes to openly carry out savage murders in the streets of the Philippines. Those murders became known as “extrajudicial killings.” And to this day, nobody knows exactly how many “extrajudicial killings” took place under his leadership. Some estimate the death toll to be as high as 30,000.
Regardless, Filipino journalists with spines of steel pursued the story relentlessly, and the Duterte administration punished them for it. Many reporters and outlets were targeted, but few felt Duterte’s wrath worse than Maria Ressa, the founder of the digital news site Rappler.
Rappler was a fearless critic of the government. Its journalists wrote many stories laying out the truth about Duterte’s so-called war on drugs and the widespread corruption that happened during his administration.
In response, the government retaliated against Rappler — many times. In 2018, one of its reporters was once barred, without warning, from entering the grounds of the presidential palace, the Philippines’ equivalent to the White House.
During a nationally televised State of the Nation address in 2017, Duterte accused Rappler of being foreign-owned. In a follow-up statement, he added, “Not only is Rappler’s news fake, it being Filipino is also fake.”
A government task force accused it of being associated with communists as part of an effort to shut it down, and the outlet even had its license revoked at one point.
Ressa herself was targeted. In November 2018, she was charged with a series of tax-related crimes, including tax evasion. A few months later, she was arrested and charged under an anti-cybercrimes law that the Duterte administration widely used to go after journalists and other critics. A court found her guilty, but the case remains under appeal.
Despite all of those attacks, Ressa showed the world how to stand up to a dictator. She endured years of being treated as a criminal and never wavered from defending her rights and those of the free press.
All of the tax-related charges against her have since been dropped. Rappler’s license was also restored by the court, and it remains a top news site in the country.
In Ressa’s new book, “The Fight Back: A Citizen’s Guide to Standing Up to Dictators,” she offers Americans a blueprint for confronting an autocratic leader — and defending democracy before it’s too late.
“Courage isn’t the absence of fear; it’s the decision that something matters more,” she wrote. “It’s the first step in the fight back.”
In the wake of intelligence reports that Russia may be planning an attack on NATO, questions have arisen over whether European officials have contingency plans ready to deal with such an event.
US special envoy Steve Witkoff and Iranian Foreign Minister Abbas Araqchi met in New York on September 22 following days of signals that US-Iranian talks would take place on the sidelines of the UN General Assembly. The meeting sparked a backlash from Iranian hard-liners.
US President Donald Trump has said a “massive deal” is being discussed with Belarus, under which it would provide cheaper potash supplies than Canada. But questions since the announcement have swirled over whether Belarus can replace the world's largest potash producer to meet US needs.
Iran’s parliament is divided over a sweeping bill aimed at countering foreign “infiltration,” exposing tensions over how far the state should go in tightening security after the war. Even supporters such as Parliament Speaker Qalibaf have warned against measures that could “lock up” the country.
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